


Impractical

by pipisafoat



Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-28
Updated: 2011-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-19 21:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary sleeps over. Marshall notices her hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impractical

_Late-night calls from witnesses never end well. You either drag yourself out of bed to referee a stupid argument about whether the teenage daughter should be allowed to have a boyfriend sleep over, or you tell them to work it out themselves, and it turns out the seemingly innocent boyfriend is a hitman come to take out the whole family in the middle of the night. Either way, if you have a temper like mine, it's best to take your partner, even if you have to turn him around before he gets in the car and remind to change out of those ridiculous pajama pants._

 _In accordance with Murphy's Law, the boyfriend is only a hitman when you don't show up, so it's better for everyone if you just get out of your nice, warm, comfortable bed. You tell Marjory that her children are her responsibility, and that she's only supposed to call you like that if there's physical danger. (You let Marshall explain to her that popping a cherry does not count as physical danger, especially when said cherry has clearly been popped years before.) And when you finally get her to shut up, you drive Marshall back to his place and follow him inside, because it's too damn late (or is it really early, like he's arguing?) to drive home._

"Do you realize exactly how little sleep I will be getting now?" Marshall groused as he locked the door. "The human body and brain require a certain amount of sleep to function properly. Your midnight detour just subtracted two entire hours from my night."

She checked the clock hanging on his wall before dropping her jacket on the floor. "An hour and a half at most, since I called you."

"Like I can go back to sleep right away. I'm not magic." He picked up her jacket and hung it in the closet. "You want me to sleep on the couch?"

"You don't fit."

"And you whine. Either way, I don't sleep well."

She shrugged. "So sleep in the bed with me. And get me some pajamas."

"When I get up in the morning, you want me to wash your clothes?"

"Tomorrow's Sunday, Marshall. Nobody gets out of bed until..." A yawn interrupted her. "Afternoon. But sure. Clean clothes are good."

* * *

  
She woke up at exactly 9:23, according to Marshall's obnoxiously bright alarm clock, rolled over, and froze at the sight of him standing in the doorway to the bedroom, watching her. He didn't move to acknowledge that she was now awake, and after studying his face to no avail, her gaze finally moved down to his hands. More specifically, to the diamond ring being turned slowly between his fingers like a magician's card.

"I can explain."

He shrugged. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I don't have that kind of claim on you, and I wouldn't demand it. I'm just curious... you said Raph carried it in his pocket."

"That was before we were engaged." She sighed and rolled back over, surprised to feel the other side of the mattress go down under his weight a minute later.

"Most people wear the ring after they're engaged. Show it off to everyone they see, brag about their fiance and the perfect wedding they're about to have." He was probably sprawled on his back beside her, she thought. Thinking about what his perfect wedding would be. "When did this happen?"

"Couple weeks ago."

"Huh."

Mary was almost asleep by the time Marshall spoke again. "So why don't you wear it?"

"S'impractical," she muttered. "Doesn't fit right, either. Don't like it."

"Get it resized," he answered, sliding it easily onto his pinky finger. "Give it back and tell him to buy you something you might actually appreciate. Something smaller and less likely to rip your finger off the next time you're in a fight."

"I'll send you with him to pick it out," she yawned, and he snorted quietly.

"There's just something wrong with that." He left the ring on the headboard and went back to the laundry. "More than one thing wrong with that."


End file.
